


Steel Hands

by lucymonster



Category: Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/F, Negotiations, Pre-Canon, Sparring, gratuitous costume porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:08:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23442961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucymonster/pseuds/lucymonster
Summary: As war with the First Order looms, Amilyn looks for help in an unlikely place.
Relationships: Amilyn Holdo/Qi'ra
Comments: 8
Kudos: 9
Collections: Party in the GFFA: Star Wars Flash Exchange 2020





	Steel Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saiditallbefore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saiditallbefore/gifts).



The briefing package tells Amilyn that the leader of Crimson Dawn is a woman of fine taste. She arranges the guest quarters in High Gatalentan style, with crystal tea things and plush floor runners and vine-silk bedsheets that fall in luxurious ripples over the mattress.

They’re beautiful. But the room stands empty.

She finds Qi’ra in the gymnasium instead, at the end of a trail of slightly grubby footprints across a woven mat floor that sees heavy use and infrequent cleaning. She’s left a pile by the door: shoes and fur wrap and priceless jewellery, all cast aside like a cheap coat and sandals. Her legs flash pale through the high slit in her dress as she executes a series of high kicks to a padded training post.

‘Teräs Käsi,’ Qi’ra says without turning to greet Amilyn. ‘A martial art designed to counter the Jedi. I’ve found it works on most other opponents, too.’

‘Forgive the intrusion.’ As far as Amilyn knows, Qi’ra has no formal title, but her name by itself feels too blunt for these kinds of negotiations. ‘I came to see if you’d had time to think my proposal over. I can come back later.’

‘Of course,’ says Qi’ra, ‘it’s not Jedi you’re fighting, is it? I’ve heard the rumours. Star Destroyers amassing in Wild Space. Stormtroopers setting up checkpoints on undefended worlds. Red lightsabers glimpsed on battlefields. If we’re to believe Senator Organa and her ilk, the whole galaxy’s on the brink of another war. It’s very thrilling.’ At last she turns, wiping sweat and a few strands of hair from her brow. ‘It’s also bad for business.’

‘It’s bad for everyone.’ The dress is no doubt a priceless bespoke piece, but without the fur and jewels, it looks like something Amilyn would wear. It hugs Qi’ra’s petite body like a slip, cloudy nebula blue and dusted with stars that gleam when they catch the light. It’s not as pointedly showy as it looked on their first meeting when she wore it with towering heels. It’s also not what Amilyn would choose to wear for a workout. And it’s not what she’s supposed to be paying attention to. ‘The Senate dismisses the First Order as a harmless hermit state. We know better, and we have limited time before our enemies act to prove us right. We don’t look forward to being vindicated. And I don’t think you look forward to living under a new generation of tyranny. The Resistance needs your help, Qi’ra. We need all the help we can get.’

‘My old master taught me these forms,’ Qi’ra says, nodding at the training post. ‘I hope you don’t mind me using your gym to practice.’

‘Not at all. I can find you something more comfortable to wear, though, if you plan to keep training.’

Qi’ra smiles. Framed by crimson lipstick, her teeth look very sharp. ‘Do your enemies often give you time to change clothes before they attack? Mine don’t. I wouldn’t have survived this long if I didn’t know how to fight in a dress.’

The First Order won’t care what clothes the New Republic is wearing when they come. Amilyn shouldn’t care, either. It’s been a long time since she had this much trouble reading a potential ally. All the weeks she spent reading briefings and intelligence reports before reaching out to arrange this meeting might as well have been spent shopping around for a starry blue dress of her own. At least then she’d have had one guaranteed piece of common ground with this sabacc-faced woman whose striking appearance keeps distracting her from her political objective.

‘Here.’ Qi’ra holds out an elegant hand, inviting Amilyn closer. ‘I’ll teach you some basics. Teräs Käsi has served me well against my enemies in the past.’ She purses her lips, thoughtful. ‘And against my friends.’

‘I don’t think Teräs Käsi will help us much against the First Order,’ Amilyn says, ignoring what she thinks is intended as a subtle threat. It’s hard to tell, with Qi’ra’s face so perfectly neutral. ‘I was hoping more to secure Crimson Dawn’s financial support. You still haven’t told me what you think of my proposal.’

‘I’m telling you now.’ As fast as a striking serpent, faster than Amilyn can blink or draw breath, Qi’ra moves; they’re suddenly on the ground together, Amilyn flat on her back while Qi’ra straddles her with astonishing strength. ‘I’m never going to live under tyranny again. My old master was the first person to learn that. I took the martial skills he taught me and used them to take back my freedom by force. Let the First Order come if they like. You’ll have Crimson Dawn’s money, but if I teach you how to break a man’s neck, you may never need to spend it.’

To break a neck, Qi’ra teaches, you trap your opponent’s head between your thighs. There are other moves too. Legs hooked over shoulders, wrists pinned to the ground, bodies locked and dress skirts tangled. Eager hands tearing aside priceless couture fabric. Floor mats turning pale, bare bodies dirt brown and bruise purple.

Amilyn learns fast. With her mouth smeared red from Qi’ra’s lipstick, she studies the art of stealing breath until finally Qi’ra stops fighting beneath her.


End file.
